


Don't Get Much

by gwyneth rhys (gwyneth)



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Communication Failure, M/M, Miscommunication, Old West, changes, progress - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-07
Updated: 2009-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwyneth/pseuds/gwyneth%20rhys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when two people who communicate without words, through the smallest of gestures or glances, suddenly can't communicate at all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Get Much

I know words fail you  
And I know sometimes I do...  
I do too.

***

When Vin Tanner arrived at Chris Larabee's small homestead in the hills far outside of town, he wasn't expecting to find his friend curled up under a mesquite tree, snoozing away the afternoon. Instead of waking, as such a usually alert and cautious man would do, Chris slept on even after Vin had dismounted and walked slowly towards him. For a moment Vin feared that perhaps Chris was dead, but the slow rising and falling of his chest became clear as he got closer. Sweat dampened the neck and arms of Chris's undershirt, and his eyes were completely closed. Vin had learned long ago that few people died of a sudden with their eyes neatly closed.

Chris lay at an angle, head against the tree trunk, fist curled against his cheek. His lips were parted slightly and a hank of blond hair fell loosely across his forehead. Looking like a child, Vin thought. He knelt down and for a moment, gazing down at Chris, felt such sweetness that he reached out and touched his hair gently with fingertips, brushing it aside to look at his pale, damp face. Chris sighed with a sharp intake of breath and Vin snatched his hand back; then Chris uncurled his fist against the ground, as if offering some secret treasure he'd been hiding until just that moment.

Vin barely touched his shoulder, shaking gingerly. He stirred, confused, and Vin repeated the gesture. "Chris, Chris... wake up, it's me." This time Chris's eyes flew open and his hand reached instinctually for his gun, but there was nothing on his hip. Vin laughed quietly. "Only me, cowboy. Only me." He relaxed a little and sat up, rubbing his face.

"Sorry," he said curtly.

It didn't surprise Vin that Chris would say just a single word like they were strangers. They seemed to speak even less to each other these days than they had before, only now it wasn't because they were comfortable with silence. It should have made him angry, but he simply felt resigned instead, as he'd resigned himself to so many other bad things over his lifetime.

"Didn't expect to find you sleeping in the middle of the day." Vin stood up and stretched his back out, looking around the property.

"Me, neither. Haven't been sleeping. Guess it must have caught up with me. Sat down for lunch and..." he trailed off, not looking at Vin while he spoke, running his hands through his hair. Vin could tell Chris was trying to work his face into something that wasn't a frown, but it wasn't coming. "What are you doing here?" Chris asked in a harsh voice.

It seemed to Vin that before everything with Charlotte and the homesteaders, Chris would never have asked such a question of him, not that way. His manner was short and ill-tempered most times these days, causing Vin to be equally touchy around him -- and that just made Chris act all the worse. Ever since they'd returned to town, Vin felt suspicion being thrown on him like cold water, as if Chris was always expecting him to do something wrong at the least little turn. He'd known from the beginning Chris could be harsh in what he expected of others, but learning that all it took was one failing for him to give up on someone -- that was a hard notion to come to terms with.

"Needed you in town. Since you ain't been there in days."

The accusation made Chris narrow his eyes, and Vin immediately wished he could take it back. But the damage was done. Chris picked up his canteen and the remains of his food, stalking back over to what he was building. It looked as if during the past few days Chris had cleared the remaining land around the house and was now building a saddle shed. Vin watched him walk away, remembering the cold words he'd spoken just a few weeks ago. _"I need to know I can depend on you. Let me know when I can."_ It stuck in Vin's mind, a sliver of discontent, growing more and more infected with time.

Not knowing what else to say, he turned his back and muttered, "It ain't a hurry." Vin mounted his horse and turned around, looking down at Chris's back. "Railroad surveyors arriving to see if they want to run the line through town or down to Baker and the Pass. Folks are getting het up about it, hoping they can persuade them, and if that don't work, well... they could just as easy try force." He touched his hat.

"I know," Chris said without turning to face Vin. "I know how these things go. I'll be there tomorrow."

Vin spurred his horse and rode away, angry that Chris couldn't even be bothered to look at him. He understood why Chris was punishing him for running away with Charlotte and making fools of them all. There was an ugliness inside Chris sometimes that left Vin bewildered, but he'd always known it existed. If Chris was angry enough to let it show over such small nonsense, well, Vin could see it: Chris's temper was a magnificent thing at times and swept everyone away by its force. Vin knew he'd been in the wrong, even _he_ understood that, shamed though he was.

What Vin didn't understand, in spite of it all, was why Chris was punishing himself, too.

 

 

When Chris arrived in town the next morning, Vin was so busy trying to keep the townsfolk away from the railroad men that he didn't even get a chance to _try_ to speak to Chris. In the distance, toward the jail, he could see Chris's hat bobbing along atop the crowd, once in a while a glimpse of the long black coat, but they exchanged not so much as a nod. The railroad men weren't making the boys' jobs easy with their willingness to buy drinks for the welcoming citizens, their propensity for gambling, and their loud mouths when it came to discussing their plans. Things would have been smoother if they'd kept their distance the day before and hadn't stayed up all night sporting and drinking. It gave people ideas that the railroad was for sale, and Vin knew that you couldn't buy them \-- you could spend a lot of money but in the end still be passed right by.

As the surveyors loaded their wagon and hitched the mules up, Vin and Buck Wilmington eyed each other with amusement. Buck stood in the doorway of the saloon, cup of coffee in his hands, eyes bleary and bloodshot from his all-night revelry. But he was still on his guard. A crush of people milled around, pushing up against the surveyors. Girls whose flirtatious smiles spoke promises of things to come, men whose payments on debts from the previous night were really just consideration money.

Finally Buck seemed to grow tired of the throng and stepped off the boardwalk, saying in his booming voice, "Now, folks, come on, give these men some room. They got work to do. Crushing them to death ain't gonna get you a railroad." He motioned with wide sweeping gestures, and the people took wary steps backwards. Vin helped one of the men up into the seat. JD Dunne was already on the end of the wagon, rifle in hand, and then Ezra Standish and Josiah Sanchez climbed aboard, tipping their hats at Vin. "You'll be along tomorrow, am I correct?" Ezra asked.

"Me and Buck. Chris too if he has a mind, though who knows these days. Soon's we get everyone settled down here and make sure no one's planning to pester them all to death."

"One wishes the accommodations to be more attractive," Ezra said to no one in particular. Vin just laughed. Somehow Ezra always managed to bring it around to himself.

He leaned over to Vin, speaking low. "And, _entre nous_ , now that Mr. Larabee is back with us, do you think you can get him to put aside his truculence? He rankles these days."

Vin glanced over to where Chris was standing, rifle cradled in his arms, hat down so low Vin couldn't really see his eyes. "No idea. I can try, but..." Ezra probably had more sway over Chris now than Vin did.

Ezra raised his eyebrow at Vin while the rest of the railroad men clambered up into the wagon.

The driver snapped the reins over the mules' backs and the wagon lurched forward. There would likely be nitroglycerine in that wagon, which made Vin twitchy thinking of it; he imagined the rest of the boys weren't feeling all that easy about it, either. But it was their job to make sure their own townsfolk did nothing to harm the railroad employees in their eagerness or their dislike. No matter what misgivings any of them had, this was what they'd signed on for.

As soon as the wagon had reached the edge of town, Vin walked over to Chris, who stood straight and tense, eyes squinting off in the distance.

"I split us up into two groups. Wanted to make sure that in case someone gets a mind to following, there's someone as to look after them," Vin said conversationally. Chris turned to him with the strangest look, appraising and suspicious and proud, all at the same time.

"Buck told me you set it up, the shifts, all of it. Guess you didn't need me after all -- when you put your mind to it you do fine leading the way."

Vin moved his jaw a little, narrowing his eyes at Chris. "Now, what's that supposed to mean?" Would Chris think he was trying to step into his shoes and act like the trail boss? Or was he just looking for a way to goad him and pick a fight? Chris knew he didn't like to give orders; that all he ever cared to do was just go along and do what he wanted, not tell people to do his bidding. This wasn't the kind of thing Chris would bother speaking on unless he was trying to say something.

"Don't mean nothing at all. Just an observation."

All Vin could do was stare at him some more, spreading his hands out in a gesture of helplessness. "Goddammit, Chris. Get it in the open and just say it. Whatever thing's been eating at you, it's getting tiresome. Just say your piece about what you're thinking of me and be done with it."

Chris stood straighter, lowering the rifle and blinking rapidly a few times. As if he was a kid being caught stealing sugar candy. His mouth moved a few times, eyes bewildered. Vin watched the people coming and going on the street while he waited for Chris's response, expecting some snappish remark. Wished he'd gone with Ezra first, instead of waiting to switch with them later. When Chris still hadn't answered after a minute that felt like forever, he made a disgusted motion and said, "Aw, hell. Forget it." This time he went straight for the saloon, overflowing with people even at this hour, all of them either planning their fortunes should the railroad come to town or ways to prevent it coming at all.

Snaking his way through to the bar, Vin ordered a whiskey. He was staring into the shot when he looked up in the mirror to see Chris behind him. Time was when they'd have stood like this at the bar, whiling away the hours, soaking their thoughts and feelings in the liquor. Knowing each other; friends. Now Vin felt uncertain and almost fearful, staring at that blank face, the tight mouth. He didn't really know this man anymore: how he could be so small and angry over one simple mistake; how he could so willingly throw a friendship away. Especially when it wasn't really even about that, about him.

"Bit early for that, don't you think?" Chris had shoved through the people behind Vin and stood next to him, apprehensive and dark.

"Nope. It ain't what I think." He knocked back the shot.

Chris ordered coffee. "Just being contrary?"

"Nope." It was so crowded in here that it was almost like having a private conversation alone in a room -- no one paid the least bit of attention to them. Everyone was busy talking about possibilities, money, land. There were more people in town today than had probably come in for the past six months, all of them overexcited. Seemed like a very bad mix to Vin.

"So, that's how you're gonna be?" Chris's words were flat, distant.

Vin blinked and turned to face him. "How _I'm_ gonna be?" He snorted. "You got a lot of nerve, saying that." Vin had always considered himself pretty easy-going and not prone to getting riled up. But it was like a burr under a saddle, getting this testy over everything Chris said -- and to see Chris acting the same way.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Chris said, "Look, Vin. A lot happened when we moved those settlers. To both of us."

"I know that. You think I don't know that? And since I'm the one run off with a married woman and caused a ruckus, now you're gonna keep punishing me until... when? When will it stop?"

In the noisy room Chris's voice was dark and penetrating. "That ain't what's been bothering me."

Fixing him with a narrow look, Vin said between clenched teeth, "Well, when are you gonna tell me what _is_ bothering you? Because I'm damn tired of--"

Behind them shouting erupted as a fight broke out; immediately others joined in and the saloon became of sea of hollering and swinging. The melee got so wild so quickly that both of them had a hard time wading through the crush of bodies to get to the center.

"Aw, hell," Vin muttered, and drew his hogleg to fire in the air. Bits of debris rained down on the crowd, but they stopped fighting. He glanced over at Chris, who had hold of one of the fighters, and for a moment felt like they were back to their old selves. When there was trouble, it didn't matter if they were angry or sad, there was just a job to tend to. Vin took hold of the other fighter's collar and they dragged them out of the saloon.

"If we haul everyone to jail, we're gonna fill up them cells mighty quick," Vin commented. Chris stopped, shoving his captive against the hitching rail.

"Good point." He wagged a finger at the man. "You're gonna go cool down and not come back into the saloon until you can act proper, got that?" He put his hand on his gun. The man nodded enthusiastically.

"Same goes for you," Vin shouted. "You best get to the opposite end of town. Or better yet, get _out_ of town." Vin was waving the sawn-off Winchester; his man was ready to go as soon as Vin let go of him.

They watched both of them disappear, and Chris sighed loudly as Vin holstered his gun. "Whole town's speculating," he said. "They're all gonna try to buy any land where they think the railroad could go, or take land from those who've already got it. If them surveyors make a decision to send it elsewhere... I don't know about this. People get a fever sometimes."

"Like finding gold." Vin thought for a moment. "Seems to me we can't afford to be switching off protection on those surveyor fellas. Best we stay here, and the others stay there, because if we're out of town for even a few hours..."

Chris nodded in agreement. "Another good point." The way he looked at Vin was warm with regard, the first time Vin had seen that look in a very long time.

"Reckon I'll ride after them and bring the boys some spare food, let them know they're gone for the time being. Why, Ezra will be hoppin' mad."

"I'll say."

"Maybe I should switch places with him." He was testing Chris, just a little.

"No," Chris answered quickly, maybe too quickly. "They got the lesser of two evils. Ain't but a few people who'll follow those folks, pestering them. We need someone like you here now. And Nathan and Buck -- especially Nathan, when people get woolly."

Vin nodded. He was glad Chris was eager to keep him there, when he'd have expected Chris to encourage his leaving -- or would volunteer to leave himself. As he walked away to get his horse, from behind him Chris said, "Vin." He turned, but Chris was looking off in the other direction. "It ain't exactly how you said."

Kicking at the dirt, Vin glanced up at him, bitter and weary. "You told me you couldn't depend on me, Chris. What else could that mean? You said, 'let me know when I can.' As if I ever let you down before. When have I? Ain't no one denying I made mistakes. But none of those mistakes meant you couldn't still depend on me."

After a few moments of staring off towards the end of the street, Chris looked at him. "I know. I shouldn't have said that. It was you being gone and what I keep thinking is... that I can't, Vin. I can't... do that again." Chris turned on his heel and strode away with that peculiar sideways walk of his.

Now, what the hell was that supposed to mean? Vin was completely befuddled. He was gone, and Chris couldn't do that again? _Do what?_ Could Chris possibly be any more worrisome if he tried?

Vin walked away, muttering to himself, making for Potter's store. He loaded up some provisions -- even a few cans of fruit, just to placate the boys \-- and rode away in the direction the surveyors had taken. He thought on what Chris had said, trying to figure out what "that" meant, until he remembered something he'd put to the back of his mind.

Some time before they'd helped the wagon train out to their land, Vin, Chris, and Ezra had gone to Yuma guarding a man Judge Travis had sentenced to the federal prison. They'd taken Vin's wagon because Buck had shot the man in the backside, leaving him less than saddle-worthy. At night there, Vin had bunked down in the wagon while Chris and Ezra stayed out enjoying the nightlife. Ezra had planned to stay in the hotel with whatever he took from his winnings, while Chris would eventually find his way back to the wagon. Vin never even heard him come in, he was that tired; complaining, annoying prisoners always did wear him out. When Vin had awakened in the silent, coal-black night, he'd felt a hand on his cheek and opened his eyes to see Chris watching him, the backs of his fingers sliding softly, slowly against Vin's skin. He'd smiled at Chris, touching his hand, before falling back to sleep.

At the time, Vin had thought it was a dream -- he was still awash in sleep, and it was so dark and warm and quiet that he could not imagine it had been real. When they were up the next day there was nothing different about Chris, no mention made or trace of the gesture, so Vin had shrugged it off. Later, when he foolishly chased after Charlotte, he'd convinced himself that it _had_ been a dream, a wish. A person didn't have to be smart to understand that he'd behaved like someone desperate for a human touch. A connection with someone else. What you couldn't get in life, you dreamed up -- Vin had always known that.

Now he wasn't so certain. It didn't make a lick more sense why Chris would act this way. But if it had been real, well, he could certainly see Chris punishing himself for showing so much feeling -- and punishing Vin for being the one he showed it to. Maybe even try to be so ornery that Vin would leave just to get away from it, and then Chris could say he'd been right all along: you couldn't depend on Vin, friendship didn't mean a thing to him.

As if Chris didn't want anyone seeing him act like a human being again.

Vin wasn't certain just what he thought about any of that. Such feelings didn't trouble him so much as they should have, or at least, how he reckoned they should trouble him. There was a regard he and Chris had for each other unlike any other friendship he'd known -- though there'd been few of those to compare to. Something deeper ran between them that he didn't know how to describe. If Chris felt it too, but felt betrayed...Vin didn't mind so much that Chris would show him affection, but clearly, Chris minded a lot.

It was afternoon by the time he reached the railroad surveyors, and they were pitching their camp to get started taking readings. Vin hollered a greeting to the boys, who were quite surprised to see him.

"Got a change of plans," Vin explained. "Everyone's all riled up and there's too much trouble in town. Chris was thinking it'd be better us not switching off with these here folks, so's we can stay in town, not leave things unattended."

Ezra made a sour face and glanced at Josiah.

"Well, I expect this is the better job, then, just the less comfortable one," Josiah said lightly, trying to keep a good humor. They'd all grown too soft, Vin thought. Even he didn't like being away from town near as much as he had in the past, even though he still preferred the ground to a feather bed.

"We already busted up one big fight today, and I don't see that being the end of it. They're speculating. And won't be long before someone like Royal or James gets up to his old tricks and tries to take someone's land if they think the railroad will buy it. Ain't something _I'm_ looking forward to."

"Understood." Josiah grinned broadly at Ezra and JD, and added, "Just more time for me to add to JD and Ezra's education in the ways of the Lord."

JD made a face, but took the spare food Vin had brought for them. Ezra merely shook his head.

"Stay for supper?" Ezra asked.

"Aw, no, expect I ought to get back. Be enough trouble for Chris just keeping Buck away from all the ladies, don't want to leave him by himself." There was a stream just past the wagon, and Vin walked over to fill his canteen. Ezra trailed along behind and stood on the sandbar, watching him.

"Something on your mind?" Vin asked, standing up and taking a long drink.

"No. Nothing in particular. Just wondering if perhaps Chris is stepping in where he shouldn't. Your plans seemed quite acceptable without this. Or maybe it's punishment."

Squinting off in the distance of the blue hills, Vin shook his head. "Don't think so. It makes sense. Just sorry you got stuck out here 'cause of bad timing. I know how much you hate camping out." He smiled at Ezra, who grinned back at him.

"Be that as it may, Mr. Larabee has been in a singularly foul mood since we put those settlers on their land. Could he be jealous you were doing so well without him? He assumes he has leadership of this group; maybe he doesn't want others to succeed without him."

"You trying to get my back up?"

"Oh, no, not me. I would never consider such a thing."

Vin picked up a rock and skimmed it across the water. Ezra was the last person he would ever want to confess anything to. As soon as Ezra found a soft spot Vin would be cleaned and gutted before he could say Jack Frost, but there was no one else who'd even noticed the problems with Chris. It was as if they saw nothing different about their friend. Maybe to them there was no change -- Chris was the same silent, tough man he always was.

"Something's different about him. He's steamed, but... it's at me, not the rest of you. Don't know as how that makes a difference, but it's how it is."

"I think he just likes putting me in the situations I hate most for fun. For you right now, it's different, I would agree. You are still in the woodshed, my friend."

Vin cocked his head and glanced quizzically at Ezra. "He's all riled up at me for running off with Charlotte. For making us look bad, being foolish. He said, after I got back that time, that he couldn't depend on me."

"Hmm. Somehow I doubt that." Ezra shook his head and pursed his lips. "As you may have heard, there are none so blind as those who will not see." He took his hat off and studied the brim, shifting it around in his hands. "Have you ever given thought to a different scenario? That he's... well, hurt because you left? Oh, I know we gave you a hiding over that," he said jovially, arms spread out, "but Chris never really did. Get it out of his system, I mean. We taunted you about your indiscretion, but he merely kept it all inside, festering like a sore. Perhaps he's afraid of what he felt when you left."

"What?" Vin snapped.

"Mr. Tanner, I despair. I can never tell if you don't understand me because you're hard of hearing, because you're ignorant, or because you don't pay attention."

"I don't catch your meaning because you never make no sense." Vin kicked at the sand and rocks. "Just once I wish you'd stop hiding behind them five-dollar words and say what you mean."

"I _said_ what I mean. He might be sulky because he's perturbed by how he felt when you left. Do you think friendship comes easily to a man like him? It's no secret he depends on you and has regard for you. _Perhaps_ he's just annoyed with you and with himself for being in a position to remember what it means to feel alone again." Ezra stared at Vin as if he was a slow child and shrugged his shoulders.

Something clicked into place then in Vin's mind, though, the way the cylinder clicks into place on a revolver. " _I can't do that again."_ That's what he'd meant: feel something, anything, for anyone. The longer he stayed in Four Corners, the more he felt, and the more people he felt for. And to have one of those people run off... _already gone_.

"Vin?" Ezra asked, stepping into his line of sight.

"Sorry. Just pondering your point. I suppose you're right."

"I'm always right," Ezra said smugly.

"Except when you're wrong." Vin smiled. He put his hat back on, as did Ezra. "Best get back to town, I imagine there's plenty of folks up to mischief by now." They began walking back to Vin's horse.

Ezra let out an enormous sigh and waved his hand. "I suppose I ought to help set up camp. Since I'll now be stuck with this scintillating company. Thank goodness I brought my cards."

Vin mounted his horse and tipped his hat at the boys. JD waved at him. "Think maybe you could wager them into putting the railroad near town and win?"

"If anyone could, it would be me," Ezra laughed and slapped Vin's horse on the rump.

 

 

It was nightfall when Vin got back, even though the late summer days were still long. He went straight to the jail, expecting to find Chris there. He found him with four prisoners already in the cells.

"Why, I'll be!" he said in surprise. "I was expecting trouble, but not like this."

"Been a busy day," Chris answered. "Buck's out making a patrol around, just to be on the safe side."

"Things quieting down or getting worse now it's night?"

"Quieter. Took a while though. The railroad men ain't coming back for at least three days, which point we finally got across and that all this fussing isn't going to make it happen any faster or affect their decision. You'd think we were trying to convince them to change religions."

Vin settled down in the chair and put his heels on the desk. For a while he gazed at Chris, tilting his head to one side as he studied him, and Chris just looked back, puzzled. "You don't want it, do you?"

A panicked look crossed Chris's face. "What?"

"The railroad. You don't want it."

Chris looked relieved, shoulders dropping and face relaxing. "Don't know. Maybe not. I picked this town because it was quiet. Be different with that around. I like it as it is."

Vin pretended to be interested in the things on the desk, flipping through wanted posters and such, but he was momentarily overcome with thoughts of what Ezra had said and what he was just now realizing about Chris: that Chris had sacrificed much of who he was, what consumed him and drove him onward, to stay here. For whatever those reasons were.

He felt peculiar, like something heavy was inside him, slowing him down. The weight of knowing you held someone's future in your hands. Chris had been telling him but he hadn't understood -- he was tying his life to Vin's and to this place. Vin had spent so much time stewing over the accusation of being undependable that he hadn't remembered the important part of their argument. Chris had said it baldly: "Looks like you're already gone to me."

Jesus, why did it always take him so long to figure this sort of thing out? Sometimes he thought he was just too foolish to have lived so long. The aching silence that closed around them lately, the need to deny things about each other -- how could he have failed to notice?

Vin watched Chris for a while as he looked in on their prisoners. In the dim light and quiet of the room, it felt private here. Almost as if he could ask questions about those things they'd denied, or tell things that he otherwise wouldn't. A time of secrets.

As Chris sat across the desk from him, Vin asked, "Staying here all night? Or is anybody else coming to keep an eye on them?"

"Nah. Only me. Buck's got his own plans. It's calming down, anyways. They're going to the pass when they get back and then they have to make their recommendation to the railroad, so it ain't like anything will happen all that fast. Folks are figuring that out."

"Want I should stay here with you?"

"You should go get some rest. Come take over in the morning."

But Chris was looking at him strangely. A forward posture, as if he was leaning in to say something, ready and eager; opening something he'd kept closed for so long.

"Not so tired just yet. I could stay and play a hand, or something else, if you've got a mind."

Vin stayed for a time, casually playing cards. The prisoners gradually drifted to sleep and their snoring filled the air, which amused Chris. Vin would look up into his face and see him smiling despite himself over the amusical tones coming from the cells. It was the face of the old Chris, his friend. They didn't speak except to call or raise, until Vin stood and stretched.

"Reckon I'll head back to my room. Catch back up with you in the morning." It felt good, it felt _right_ , to be with this Chris again. He held the door open for Vin.

Maybe it was being so tired, but Vin felt a strange boldness and stopped in front of him, so close. He touched the backs of his fingers to Chris's cheek, just as Chris had to his all those weeks ago. Surprise filled his friend's eyes, but he didn't speak a word.

"Thought all this time I just dreamed it," Vin said, voice apologetic and wry. "Maybe even that it was just wishful thinking. I understand, now." He drew his lips together tightly, nodded, and walked out the door -- itching to know what Chris's reaction was, but too proud to turn around and see.

He was halfway down the street when he heard Chris's spurs. "Vin."

Turning around, he saw Chris in the half light of the watch fire across the way, staring at him with knit brows, mouth pursed. If these feelings were what normally passed between a man and a woman, it didn't bother Vin so much, but he wasn't sure how it would sit with someone like Chris. He looked... afraid, Vin realized. Not a look he was used to seeing on that man.

"It doesn't matter what you say. I can't do that again. You'll just keep leaving, one way or another. It's your nature."

Vin walked slowly back to him, standing on the dirt street, looking up at Chris on the boardwalk. The silver on his rig glimmered red and yellow with the flickering of the flames, his blond hair darkened by night.

Squinting at him, Vin said, "I done failed you. And I know I ain't so old as you, nor had so much experience. But I do know one thing: you don't get much in this life without giving first."

Chris blinked at him, but didn't respond. Vin nodded again and turned back to the boarding house. "It's your choice," he said over his shoulder.

If he didn't know this man who'd lived inside Chris's skin these past few weeks, he did know the one before that, the one who had become his friend and companion. Vin had to believe that that man would know what the right choice was.

 

Vin's trick over the next few weeks was to stick close to Chris's side no matter where he went or what he did. Just his little way of saying he wasn't going anywhere. The surveyors returned, then went away again to Baker. They could cause whatever trouble they wished and it was no longer the responsibility of the boys in Four Corners. The town grew more tense waiting and wondering, the large landholders readied at the bank to buy up whatever they could. The boys kept busy and stayed in town, even Chris.

Vin watched him, waiting to see if he would bridle over the attention, wondering how much things had changed now and what shape their friendship would form itself into, but it was every bit like it was. Before Charlotte, before Gerard, before they both found themselves on a path they'd been forced by others to take.

Over this time Vin began to understand that about Chris -- how much Gerard's affections for Mary had pushed Chris into decisions he hadn't thought of making. Almost in the same way that chasing about with Charlotte had put Vin in a place he'd never planned on being. But it was only after he'd gone forward that he'd seen the mess left behind, saw clearly for the first time just where his real place was. That was the point Chris couldn't see about him, though; not now.

Chris had the same notion of Vin that Charlotte had -- that he was wild and woolly, that he would never stay in one place or keep to one person. When all that happened, Vin hadn't understood he wasn't that kind of man. To his way of thinking Charlotte had been right. It was only when Chris had pushed him, had challenged him for letting everyone down, that he'd known for certain he wasn't that man anymore.

He was, at last, where he wanted to be.

Sometimes in the course of a day Vin would catch Chris looking at him sideways. As if he was always sizing Vin up now, or making sure he was really seeing what he was seeing. And sometimes there'd be a smile underneath his seriousness, like he'd figured out just what Vin was doing. Where Chris would usually get riled by fussing or someone being too close, this time it appeared to amuse him.

When the railroad men came back to town at last it was to deliver the news that they'd picked the route alongside Four Corners. Sometimes, Vin knew, there were moments in your life where everything changes from that exact point on -- before, your life was one way; afterwards, every single thing was completely different, you were living in a new world. As he watched the frenzy of land dealing, the celebrations and the planning, he knew this was the moment their lives changed forever. These jobs, this town, would never be the same; they couldn't hope to stay just as they were. It had happened once here, it would happen again. All of them would choose soon enough which life they wanted to lead. He'd learned young enough that this was how life was, and change always came no matter how you fought it, only now he felt twinges of regret wondering if Chris would leave, if he himself would have to leave for real this time.

When life had settled down again, Chris went back to his house in the hills. His nod to Vin as he left was an invitation, a message sent in much the same way they used to talk -- through eyes, hands, the smallest of gestures.

After a time Vin followed him, assuming he was welcome this time. When he arrived Chris was waiting for him with an axe in his hand, and as soon as Vin took care of his horse, Chris thrust the axe at him and said, "Get working. Lot of wood to split for this fence." They'd grinned at each other stupidly, sliding back into their old selves.

Chris made dinner when the work was finished; Vin sat across the small table from him, tired and happy. Chris talked distractedly about the changes that would come, all the things the Judge had warned them of before as Vin just listened, content.

"Will you stay?" Vin finally asked him, drinking the last of his coffee.

Chris seemed surprised by the question, especially after everything that had come between them so recently. "You're asking _me_ that?"

"Well..." Vin drawled, staring down at the table, "I had this notion that I'd go wherever you went. So it makes some difference."

"And here I was thinking the same thing."

Vin reached across the table to where Chris's hand rested, closing his fingers around the wrist, so strong and yet so thin. "You got to tell me. Whatever you decide, you got to tell me. I can't much tolerate this shut-mouth behavior."

There was no effort to take his hand away. Instead Chris gazed across the room and said, "We never used to have to talk much at all."

"No, we didn't. But that was different. You know it."

For a while Chris studied Vin's face, as if he was looking for a different meaning behind the words Vin spoke. As if expecting some kind of half-truth. But whatever he sought, he clearly couldn't find. He turned his wrist slightly so that his fingers slid along the inside of Vin's wrist, which made him shiver. "We can never really be that way again, can we?"

"No, just like you can't never be the way you was with Sarah and Adam. It don't mean it's wrong, just different." He stared hard at Chris, willing him to let go. "You more scared that it's me, and not Mary or some other lady? I know this ain't your idea of how things are supposed to be, and I'm not such a prize, myself."

Finally Chris smiled at him, warm and inviting, as if he'd come through a dark room into a lighted one. "You got some notion of yourself, don't you?"

"I know a thing or two."

"You do at that."

"I'm staying put if you are. Whatever happens, why, it happens. But I'm staying here."

Chris clasped his arm tightly and hauled Vin up as he stood from the table. He clutched Vin's shoulders with hard, strong fingers. In turn Vin put his hands on his narrow hips, skin so warm through the trousers. It made Vin laugh, the serious, frowning look Chris had on his face, the way he was biting his lower lip in earnest study of Vin's face. And then Chris's seriousness melted away, so Vin kissed him. Lightly, tentatively, still wary that Chris would shove him away and end it before it began.

Chris turned him around swiftly to face the window, their reflections wavery and pale in the dimness. Then he put his arms around Vin, mouth against his cheek. "I wish I had a looking glass to show you what you look like to me. What I see in you."

Chris's body was hot and tense behind him. "Can't be much," Vin laughed.

"I was only foolin' before. You really have no notion of yourself. What you truly are." His hand moved down along Vin's stomach to the front of his trousers, undoing the fly. He bit at Vin's ear lightly, making him quiver, and Vin leaned into him, hands splayed over Chris's hips, his breathing heavy as if he was under water. "I got such feeling for you that it overcomes me. Scares me." Chris's breath seared like embers on his neck. "All the good things in you are the worst things in me. Where you're quiet, I just seem cold. What's tenderhearted and kind in you is weakness and stupidity in me. I never knew till you went away how much I needed you to be those other things."

Vin took hold of his hand and threaded his fingers through Chris's, squeezed so hard he could break bones. "You just shut up, right now." All this time getting him to talk, and now he wanted Chris to be quiet and not judge himself so unfairly. Vin led him to the bunk and pulled him down, kissing him like he was taking in breath. "When you finally decide to talk, you just talk, don't you?"

Smiling, Chris unbuttoned Vin's shirt, grinding his hips hard against him. Vin could feel the twitching in his groin, the blood pounding there. Their labored breathing and the creaking of the slats made a kind of rhythmic music, one that echoed in his head with those loose, tuneless melodies he played on his harmonica. He wanted to play it on Chris's skin, along the warm bulk of his muscles, a song of desire between them. Vin trailed his lips down Chris's chest and stomach, finally taking his sex in his mouth. When Chris finally came it was in quiet gasps, silent again, this time the way Vin wanted him silent. He laughed low in his throat at Chris's speechlessness, until Chris did it to him in turn, driving him to his own wordless delight.

 

Vin woke in the night, uncomfortable from being squished in the narrow bunk with Chris, and stretched out the kinks in his body. He looked out on the yard out front, the half-moon's light casting silvery blue shadows across it all. What would it be like to stay here? he wondered. To make a life with Chris, whether as lawmen in town or making a life on this land? He'd never thought to be tied to land, not in his wildest dreams, but he was tied to Chris and if this was where he wanted to be, then the land it was. He would prove to Chris, no matter what roles they found themselves in, that leaving was not on his mind anymore. That maybe it hadn't been since the moment they'd met.

Vin heard the rustling of blankets and then Chris was behind him again, hand on his hip, skin against skin.

"What are you looking at?" Chris asked against his ear, breath tickling his neck and making the hairs stand up there.

"Shh," Vin admonished, pointing out the window. "See there?"

A skinny gray wolf came into view just past the clearing, stalking something. Whatever it was rustled through the brush. "Think it'll try for the horses?"

"Nah, they don't usually do that 'less they're desperate. Besides, he's got his eye on something else for dinner. Can't see it, but it's out there."

They watched as an animal broke past the brush and the wolf sprinted after it. Vin leaned back against Chris, who put his arm around Vin's waist. "Something like that is gonna get rarer, once the railroad comes."

"Yeah," Chris said. "Everything changes. It'll be a long road; I don't know where we'll end up."

"Been down a lot of roads before, Chris. Don't scare me much." Vin couldn't tell him that he _was_ a little scared of his feelings for Chris, afraid of losing him again to temper or melancholy -- or to his fears. Instead he pushed it to the back of his mind, determined that he would just live in this time. "Just so long as I travel with you."

Chris didn't say anything, only gazed past him at the property outside the window. He took Vin's hand and twined his fingers through Vin's, nodding. It was only when he turned his face away that Vin could see how wet Chris's eyes were.

After some time Chris spoke to him, quiet and regretful. "You said you don't get much without giving. And you're right. But you're giving up so much to get so little. Your freedom, the thing you care about most. Just for some bitter, lonely old man."

Vin chuckled. "That ain't the thing I care most about. It ain't freedom to be alone, to always be looking behind you, wondering how and when and where. I ain't giving up a thing. And you won't be bitter or lonely no more, will you? I can't do a thing about the old, though."

Chris smiled ruefully and appeared to ponder this for a moment before he tugged on Vin's arm, leading him back to the bunk. The place smelled of night and sex and earth, and in the darkness Chris looked like the moon to him, pale and luminous, true. Something to guide himself by. Vin climbed in after him and said against Chris's shoulder, "People come and they go, Chris. They live and they die. Only matters what you do when they're here. And I'm here now. I'm staying where I ought."

The room was filled with all the things still left unsaid between them, but Vin knew now the words would stick around, waiting for the right time to be spoken. And if Chris didn't always know how to say it, well, then, Vin would help him along. That was the gift friends, and lovers, gave to one another with time.

**Author's Note:**

> Song lyrics are from Kris Delmhorst's "Words Fail You"


End file.
